Lies, Damned Lies and Newsprint
by Fuyumi
Summary: After a rather long search, Ron finally finds a job as an assistant to one of the Daily Prophet's star reporters. Unfortunately, her victims of choice are his two best friends, who are currently trying to plan their wedding.
1. Prologue

**Lies, Damned Lies and Newsprint**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Prologue**

In normal times, a degree from Hogwarts would practically guarantee its holder a decent job. 

Unfortunately for recent graduates, that was no longer so. After Harry Potter's final defeat of Voldemort, the Ministry of Magic had decided to cut back on jobs. This was not a complete surprise. Most people had predicted that less Aurors would be hired. However, it came as a shock when other departments started cutting back on their positions. Apparently, Cornelius Fudge had been very lenient when overseeing departmental spending, especially in the last couple of years when it was clear to everyone with sense that Voldemort had risen again. When that crisis ended, reporters for the Daily Prophet had to search for news stories elsewhere. One of its top reporters had uncovered the fact there had been no checks placed on spending with the Ministry of Magic and as a result, it had consistently gone over budget for the better of the last ten years, at least.1 This had led to a controversy throughout the Wizarding World, fueled by those good wizards and witches at the Prophet, which had ended with the cuts in new hires being made to appease the people. 

Which was the reason why Ron Weasley hated the Daily Prophet more than ever.2 

Of course, the cuts in the jobs offered by the Ministry of Magic meant that there was more competition out there for jobs from other sources. To make a long story finally end, the end result was that most people needed the very best of grades in order to get a decent job now. 

While Ron Weasley was certainly not stupid, he did not have the needed grades as he always had better things to do. 

Which was the reason why Ron was now standing in front of the hated Daily Prophet's headquarters.3 

If you did not have good enough grades, then you would have to use your connections in order to get a job. For Ron, using his connections meant taking a job at his brothers' joke shop. His father was unable to help him because of an incident involving a flying car in his second year. It wouldn't look right, Arthur Weasley had said, if they hired Ron to prevent the misuse of Muggle artifacts as he was best known for his misuse of such artifacts. Being thus disappointed, Ron had decided to try and work for his brothers. After one day on the job, during which he had been used as a guinea pig for an even dozen of new gags, he had unceremoniously quit. 

The downside of quitting was that Ron now needed to find a new profession. On the positive side, he was no longer a sitting duck.4 

Ron had searched endlessly after that for a new job. The end had finally come when he was offered a position as an assistant to one of the Daily Prophet's star reporters. Not having any other options and getting rather tired of his mum's complaints about his jobless state, he took the position. 

He just knew he was going to regret that decision. 

He squared his shoulders and walked in to his doom. 

**** 

There are lies, damned lies and newsprint. 

Everyone lies. It's a sad fact of human nature that no one seems able to tell the complete truth all of the time. There are some individuals who are able to get by on telling less than the complete truth for most of their lives. However, they will ultimately succumb to telling a lie, even if it's as inconsequential as a husband saying that he forget to get milk on the way home. The truth is he didn't forget—he just didn't have any money left after spending it all paying off bad bets about the Cannons finally winning a game and so could not buy the milk. However, he would get off easier if he just said he forgot. 

Then there are damned lies. These are the horrid lies that one tells in hopes of keeping one's life together. This is when the husband claims to have forgotten the anniversary when in reality, he was decided to find a date for the night, rather than to come home and celebrate the occasion with his wife. These are lies that ultimately tear people apart and ruin their lives. It's another sad fact that some people never learn and so these lies persist. 

Finally, there is newsprint. Newsprint, as any genius Muggle-born witch could tell you, has the capacity to be the worst of all. Most news stories have some basis in fact and so contribute to the integrity of the media. Unfortunately, some stories are completely fabricated to the detriment of other peoples' lives. 

At least damned lies tend to hurt the liar as well as other people. All too often with newsprint, the liar escapes any retribution. 

Rita Skeeter is a prime example of such a liar. 

**** 

Ron was clueless as to how Rita Skeeter managed to keep her job. He had thought, once, that Hermione was able to put Rita out of her business of ruining the lives of others. 

It came as a great surprise to him not only to find Skeeter to still be working, but to still be working at the same job. When he had questioned Hermione about this, she had mumbled a few phrases including damned bug, could survive anything, large bribes, and stupid Fudge. Being overly concerned with the preservation of his skin, Ron saw fit not to question Hermione further about this touchy subject. 

Besides, he had heard enough to figure out that Skeeter had ferreted her way out of a bad situation.5 

And hence, Ron now found himself in Skeeter's office as her new assistant. 

Skeeter's office could not be termed neat by any stretch of the imagination. It could be considered amazing that she was ever able to turn out any articles because her office well hid any available facts. Yet as she was not too worried about sticking to the facts in her column, she saw no reason to clean up. 

That was a job for her assistant to do. Well, one of the jobs. It was rather far down the list. There were bigger fish to fry at the moment. 

Rita examined her new assistant, who was standing before her and looking at his feet. For some reason, he looked familiar but she couldn't place his face. 

Or remember his name. Which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that she had run through too many assistants before. Her boss had thrown quite a fit when her last assistant had quit. He insisted that she treat her next assistant better or do without. 

And doing without one just would not do. Who would make her tea in the mornings? 

So she had decided to take the extra time and memorize her new assistant's name. Only she had forgotten that name now. Rita seemed to remember it being short. First name being three letters long and last name ending in –ley. 

Oh well, she might as well give it a shot. 

"Bum Beasley?" she hazarded. 

Ron sighed. This was not going to be a good first day on the job. "It's Ron Weasley," he corrected her. 

Rita paused. For some reason, that name sounded familiar. After a second or two of attempted thought, she gave up. If it was important, she would find out about it later. 

"So Rum, ever heard of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger?" 

"Yes." Of course Ron had heard about his best friends. "And it's Ron, not Rum." 

"That's what I said, didn't I? And have you heard of the two's relationship and impending marriage?" 

"No, can't say that I have." 

That was a lie. 

**** 

Even a blind man could see that Harry and Hermione felt more than just mere platonic affection for one another. Ron had many faults, but being worse than blind was not one of them. He knew they were in love with each other before they did. 

Or rather, to be completely truthful, he knew before Harry did. Hermione was always a clever witch and was able to figure out the truth very quickly. Ron suspected that she knew since the end of their fourth year. When Harry did put all the pieces together, it didn't take very long at all for them to start dating. 

Human nature, once again, caused problems.6 

Even though what happened on Harry and Hermione's first date should have been their business alone, everyone seemed to want to know about the dirty details.7 Hermione had been constantly harassed by her roommates to tell them about everything. While most teenage girls attending a boarding school would go through similar experiences, most of them did not have to deal with persistent reporters constantly haranguing them for details. 

Harry and Hermione were both individuals who valued their privacy and thus their response to such reporters was always a firm no. Occasionally, the 'no' was much stronger than firm, as Harry did not like at all those reporters who wrote derogatory articles about Hermione and Hermione sometimes got very annoyed at people not being able to find anything better to fill their time with. Eventually all but the most stupid gave up. 

And when it came to being stupid, Rita Skeeter had always been at the top of the list. 

**** 

Ron shook the magic 8-ball. He could not believe that this was his first assignment. Skeeter had been babbling something about statistical analysis while managing to find new ways to mangle his name. 

As soon as she had said statistical analysis, his stomach had turned. He just knew Divination was going to make an appearance. And it did—in the form of a rather dinky Muggle artifact. 

If Arthur Weasley could not get Ron a job at his department before, there was no way that he could ever help Ron now. If this wasn't the misuse of a Muggle artifact, Ron did not know what was. 

His task was awfully tedious. He was to ask a question about Harry and Hermione, shake the ball, and record whether the answer was positive, negative or neutral. So far all responses had been negative. 

"Will Harry and Hermione ever get married?" 

Shake. 

_No such luck._

"Will Harry and Hermione have a date this weekend?" 

Shake. 

_I doubt it._

"Will Harry and Hermione kiss tonight?" 

Shake. 

_Don't count on it._

Ron sighed. This Muggle invention clearly did not work. While he did not think a date had been set for a wedding, he would bet that his friends would eventually tie the know. Furthermore, he knew for a fact that they had plans to go out this weekend. Finally, if he could find any of his friends who really thought that the love birds would not kiss tonight—well, Ron had a few bridges to sell them. He could use the money to quit this dead-end job. 

Just then, Rita entered the room and sat down. "So Don, how are the responses?" she asked. 

"They're all negative. And it's Ron." 

"It is? Not Don, short for Donald, after the duck? And what did you say the responses were like again?" 

"All negative." Ron tried to no avail not to recall his time as a duck. 

"All negative?" Rita jumped up. "This is great!" she exclaimed. "This is the perfect scoop!" 

Now Ron was really confused. "Huh?" he said. "How could a bunch of no's count as the perfect scoop?" 

"You're so naïve, Quack. The little fortune-telling device evidently is trying to hide something so it's always giving negative answers to throw you off track. Fortunately, it takes more than a silly Muggle invention to confuse me. I just know that there's something those two are planning and I'm going to be the one to find out!" Rita began to dig amongst the rubble of her office, looking for pens and parchment. 

"So what you're saying is that it would have been a scoop no matter what the thing had said? That this whole thing was rigged?" Ron was not even going to correct her about his name anymore. She just kept getting worse and worse. Now he really couldn't stop thinking about his time as a duck. 

"Of course it was rigged. But those two couldn't fool me! Come on and get ready to go. Those two aren't going to be able to weasel out of telling the truth this time!" With that, Rita Skeeter marched out the door. 

Ron groaned. He really hated that phrase. Not to mention, his boss's logic was truly twisted. No matter what had happened, she had already decided to pester his friends. It made him wonder why she even bothered with the magic 8-ball nonsense. 

Ron headed out the door. No matter what happened or how stupid he thought this job was, he could not afford to lose it. 

He sighed. He just knew Harry and Hermione were going to kill him. 

He shook the ball. 

_If you already knew it, then why did you bother to ask?_

****   
1 Unfortunately, due to a lack of well-kept records, no reporter was able to verify that this problem had actually been going on for longer than ten years. Because of the lack of available facts, they could not very well print anything substantial about this. The problem was efficiently handed over to the gossip department, which normally would have printed any and all relevant rumors. However, as the main writer for the gossip department had other fish to fry, so to speak, and so fortunately for MoM and all the beleaguered job seekers, nothing more was said on the subject. 

2 Ron was not alone in his newfound contempt for the Daily Prophet. Many of his fellow classmates now also had a deep-rooted dislike for the publication and its employees. Two of them in particular, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, now spent much of their spare time composing rather off-color ballads and inventing new drinking games to mock especially detested Prophet reporters at the Three Broomsticks. As both were jobless, all of their time was spare time and so they were able to create a remarkable amount of songs and games. 

3 He was certain that his old classmates would look poorly upon his new job. I hate to tell you this, dear readers, but Ron was right. Even as he stood there outside, Dean and Seamus were creating a new drinking game involving an old Muggle song Seamus had once heard—Pop Goes the Weasel. It would go on to be very popular at the Three Broomsticks, much to Ron's dismay. 

4 The fourth of Gred and Forge's pranks. 

5 Most people would use the phrase, weasel her way out. However, Ron, being a Weasley, took umbrage at such a phrase. While he would prefer to say malfoy her way out, it didn't sound right and besides, it was generally not polite to make fun of your younger sister's last boyfriend in public. Of course, Ron did not really care about being polite when it came to Malfoys, but he did care about remaining in one piece. Therefore, he generally decided to take a subtle approach and use the term ferret instead. 

6 In fact, much of the world's problems can be traced back to human nature. One scientific experiment attributed 95% of all problems to human nature. The other five percent of problems were caused by peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. 

7 Not that there were any dirty details to tell. It was, overall, an average first date with both parties not being too sure of themselves. More specific details are known by Harry and Hermione alone.   
  


**Author's note: **I hope the endnotes are not too confusing to read--at least I can say that the prologue has more than the average chapter will have. In any case, I would love to know what you think about this story. Please review. 


	2. Chapter One

**Lies, Damned Lies and Newsprint**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter One**

The trouble with lies, from the liar's point of view, is eventually they catch up with you. 

There is also the other slight problem that lies are addicting. Once a person starts to lie about something, it is hard to stop. All too easily lying can become a habit and a way of life. The experienced liar may sit in a large, tangled web of lies so convoluted that the liar does not even know the truth. 

The truth has no such problems however. No matter how obscured it may become by the virtue of dozens upon dozens of lies, it sits still and waits for the chance to break free. No matter what the liar does to stop the truth from coming to light, it refuses to be caged. And once the truth is free, it can be a terrible force. The compulsive liar's world is oft built upon lie after lie. Just one shred of truth can be enough to bring it all down. When this finally happens, a bit of Muggle physics applies to even liars in the Wizarding World. 

The bigger they are, the harder they fall. 

**** 

They say that there is nothing certain in life except death and taxes. 

Certainty, however, is not directly correlated with fear. There are many men out there who would rather face both death and taxes at once1 instead of having to deal with arranging a marriage. Most men, after having survived the horror that was their own wedding, live in fear of the day that their daughters would bring home a fiancé. Not only do they have to give their daughter's hand away in marriage, they would also have to deal with all the planning that was associated with weddings. Most men were horrified when their wives or daughters asked them about who should sit next to who and what flowers should be in what bouquets. Unfortunately, most women could hardly believe that men could be so foolish as to not have an opinion on such items. The end result is that most men would rather pay taxes twice than plan a wedding. That option would certainly be cheaper. There are also men who would rather be dead instead of have to plan a wedding. That option would certainly be easier. 

Harry Potter is not one of these men. Having already faced death several times, he is positive that there could be nothing worse than being locked in a fight to the death upon the outcome of which hangs the balance of the lives of your nearest and dearest. 

Harry is probably right. More likely than not, there is nothing worse than that. 

However, weddings are one of the few things that can make you doubt that as Harry's going to find out. 

****   
1 In fact, in a large Muggle country somewhere off the west coast of Britain, there are a few people who do face both at once. Yet no matter how much they complain about facing the possibility during life, all complaints cease after death, which implies that facing both at once wasn't as bad as they thought it would be.   
**** 

Ron had grown rather attached to the odd Muggle device. In fact, he had already given it a nickname—Trelawney. 

Normally, giving nicknames to inanimate objects is not a very good indication of sanity even in the Wizarding World. Yet Ron was justified in this case for naming the fortune-telling device so. For some reason, no matter how he phrased the question, it always predicted death for the person he was speaking of. 

"So will Harry make it through this week?" 

Shake. 

_Highly doubtful._

"Will Ginny live to get her Hogwarts degree?" 

Shake. 

_I wouldn't count on it._

"Will Dean and Seamus die of binge drinking tonight?" 

Shake. 

_Go ahead and place your bets._

"Will Harry and Hermione do me a favor and kill Skeeter before I lose my mind?" 

Shake. 

_In your dreams, buster._

Well, it be more correct to say that it predicted the deaths except for the one he wanted the most. But Ron had enough of playing with the magic 8-ball. He had to catch up with his wayward boss, who was about to trample in Hermione's flower garden. 

Sure, if he did nothing, it might result in the painful death of Skeeter, but once Hermione was done with Skeeter, she was sure to turn her attention to him. 

But before he did that, he had just one more question to ask. 

"Will I live to see tomorrow?" 

Shake. 

_I wouldn't start making any plans if I were you._

**** 

Ginny Weasley was not having a good day. So far, it had been so bad that she was prepared to label it the worst day any Weasley ever had to live through. 

Unlike her older brother Ron, Ginny cared about the grades she received. She knew perfectly well from the long letters her mum sent in correspondence that finding a job after graduation was going to be difficult. The only thing that could make it easier was to pass her N.E.W.T.s with flying colors. 

That would take a miracle. As things currently were, Ginny was going to fail Potions spectacularly. If she were lucky, she would be able squeak by in Transfiguration and Charms. Care of Magical Creatures was the only class that she was certain she could get a passing grade in. 

The day had begun very badly, with Ginny missing breakfast as a result of staying up too late studying for Charms last night. The lack of food and sleep did not bode well for her concentration. That became all too clear in Potions. 

Ginny had been in the midst of making a Polyjuice Potion as Snape had hinted rather broadly that it would appear on the test. Actually, saying that he had hinted was putting it mildly—he had all but threatened to ensure that every last obscure theoretical proposition behind the concoction of such a potion would be on the exam. They had all gotten the point. Each and every last student had spent the last three weeks preparing a batch. 

Ginny's batch had exploded in her face today and ruined a perfectly good cauldron as well. She simply didn't have time to start over again and keep up with her study plan. On the bright side, Colin Creevey had offered to let her work along with him on his batch. On the downside, he had required that she join the Harry Potter fan club that he had created. 

She had not wanted to say yes. Granted she did have the largest crush on Harry for a long time when she was younger but she was over that now. She had been over that for a couple years, almost as long as Harry and Hermione have been together. Once she saw them together, she knew that her crush was no good. Ginny could not stop liking Harry over night but with time, she was able to take him off the pedestal she had placed him on and see him as a human being. After that, it was remarkably easy to get over her schoolgirl crush. 

However everyone else had a hard time believing that Ginny was over Harry. Her mother constantly reminded her that she did not have to attend the wedding if she did not want to. Her brothers would always stop talking about the wedding when she came around. It was enough to make Ginny want to scream. They didn't act the same way around Ron, who had acted more like a prat when he found out about Harry and Hermione. It was downright sexist of them to coddle her so. 

Joining that blasted fan club was only going to make it worse. She agreed because she simply did not know what else to do. She had to do everything in her power to pass her tests. Ginny did not want to wind up like Ron, working for their brothers as a guinea pig.2 

It simply would not do. She had to pass her tests with the best marks possible. She had to know how that stupid potion actually worked. 

Sighing, Ginny took out a quill and a piece of parchment. If you had a question about Potions, there was only one person to ask.3 Hopefully, Hermione would be able to tell Ginny where she had gone wrong. 

****   
2 When she mentioned this fact to Ron, he had emphatically told her not to mention that phrase in front of the prankster twins. Ron did not want her to give them any ideas as being a sitting duck had been bad enough. Ginny was too afraid to ask him to elaborate. Some things were better left unsaid. 

3 Technically, there are two people to ask but ignore what the other Houses might say about Gryffindors—no Gryffindor is foolhardy enough to ask Snape for help.   
**** 

Planning a wedding was not an easy task, Hermione Granger thought to herself, especially when the love of your life was so adept at not making any decisions at all. 

Making the guest list had been exasperating enough. Harry had only one requirement and that was the Dursleys were not to be invited. Hermione had no problems with that as she didn't look forward to meeting the people who had locked up Harry in a cupboard for most of his childhood. However, whenever she asked about Harry's opinion about other potential guests, he did not seem to care. 

Hermione had expected Harry to agree when she asked if she should invite the Weasleys. He did. He also agreed when she invited Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and other close friends of theirs. That was also to be expected. Yet he also had agreed to invite Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, which sounded like a very scary Muggle law firm in addition to being three of Harry's least favorite people. Hermione couldn't believe her ears when he had said yes. 

That was when she realized that Harry would never say no to inviting anyone else. His requirements were as simple as not having the Dursleys attend. It was incredible. They had to cut down the guest list somehow and she was going to have to do it all on her own. Hermione had managed to trim the guest list from half the Wizarding World to a mere one hundred guests in one horrific weekend. 

Now, however, her problem was flowers. More specifically, which types to decorate with along with what type of flower should go in whose bouquet. 

Harry's requirements had once again been simple—no petunias. Of course, Hermione had never intended to use petunias in the first place so in other words, Harry was no help at all. She hoped that Harry would be of more help when it came time to chose caterers and dishes. She suspected, however, that he would be a typical male and not say no to any type of food. 

Hermione had narrowed down the list of flowers by eliminating all magical blossoms. She didn't want to take the chance that she would accidentally pick a poisonous or worse, carnivorous flower to put in the bridesmaids' bouquets. That would not look good. 

There were still plenty of flowers to choose from amongst ordinary blossoms, however. Hermione wanted to eliminate roses as she had always thought them too snobby but they were traditional. So she kept them on the list. Hermione was going to eliminate lilies because she wasn't sure what Harry's reaction would be and she did not want to have him crying at the wedding. Yet it would be very symbolic to have them there and besides, Hermione rather liked lilies. Hence another flower was kept on the list. Hermione had been attempting to weed out the list for the last several hours. So far she had only managed to eliminate daisies and that had been a hard decision to make. In the end, while daisies were a cheerful bloom, she did not think they would match the décor. 

Of course, it would help if she had decided on the décor. All she knew right now was that everything was going to be in pastel colors. 

It was times like these when Hermione wondered if she had made the right decision when she said yes to Harry's proposal. Hermione had expected to marry him ever since they started dating. Everything was so right about their relationship. She felt so in tune with him that it was amazing. There was no doubt in her mind that they were meant to be together. 

She did wonder though if they were meant to be together so young. She had never thought that she would be the type to get married right out of school. Yet here she was, the first one of her year-mates to be engaged. She was the only one she knew that was planning for a wedding. 

That was scary. 

Commitment was not the problem. Hermione was more than ready to promise to stay with Harry forever. That was what had led her to say yes to his proposal. It was the idea of subsuming her identity in his that was truly frightening. In a few short months, she would be Hermione Grange no longer. She would be Hermione Potter, Harry Potter's wife. She wouldn't have a separate existence anymore—her name would always be tied inexplicably to his. Hermione loved Harry very much. She loved him more than she ever thought possible. However, she did not know if she was ready yet to say good bye to the girl she had been. 

For while Hermione wanted to be by Harry's side, she still wanted to remain Hermione Granger for just a little longer. 

**** 

Trying to get an insane gossip reporter out of a flower garden was easier said than done. Ron had foolishly thought that a mere warning would suffice but he was soon proven wrong. 

"Stop!" Ron somehow managed to get out that warning before Skeeter stepping into Hermione's garden. Catching up to the insane gossip reporter had also been quite a task and he was now out of breath. Ron swore to himself that he would get back in shape if only he would survive this encounter with his friends. 

"What? Where's the scoop?" Rita looked wildly around her surroundings, her hand automatically reaching for her Quick Quotes Quill. 

"There's no scoop. You were about to step in Hermione's garden." 

"Is that all?" Rita shook off his warning casually and continued on her path. 

"No," Ron shouted and grabbed Rita by her sleeve, pulling her away from the garden. 

"What now? Do you see Potter kissing some floozy somewhere around here? I always knew that he would dump that Granger twit." 

Ron groaned aloud out of sheer frustration. "No, he's not. He wouldn't do that. He loves Hermione very much, as anybody with eyes could see." 

Rita rolled her eyes. "That's what he would have you think. But I don't have time to quibble with naïve little boys today. If you excuse me, I have a scoop to catch." She pressed forward again but did not get very far because Ron was still hanging on to her sleeve. 

"I told you—you can't go that way because you'll step in Hermione's garden. That would make Hermione mad and hex you away. Besides, the door's on the other side of the house." Ron mentally added a "you idiot" to that last sentence. 

"Did you expect me to go up to the front door and knock? Do you actually think that Granger would actually open the door for me?" 

"Well, she usually does open the door when people knock politely on it. She has the best manners of anyone I know." 

"You have evidently been amongst the wrong type of people for too long," Rita pronounced. "It was your lucky day when you landed this job. Stick around and I'll teach you a few things about life." 

Ron doubted that he would stay alive long enough to enjoy any life lessons that Skeeter might teach him. He knew he wouldn't live to see the sun rise if he didn't keep her out of the garden. "Yes, yes, I'm grateful and all that," he said, "but could we please use the front door? Hermione tends to get snippy when people trample on her flowers." 

Rita eyed her apprentice warily and then glanced over at the window she had been heading towards. From here, it appeared as if no one was by the window anyway and so there was no use going there. She would just humor the dull boy for now. Perhaps if she did things in his obtuse way, she could fool Granger into letting down her guard. 

"All right then, Dumb. We'll use the front door. Not that it will do us any good." She stomped off, upset that her plans had been thwarted, without looking to make sure that her apprentice was following her. 

Ron sighed and followed his boss. Not only was she going the wrong way, she had yet to get his name right even once. 

**** 

**_Author's note_**--It's taken forever to write this chapter and Rita still isn't any closer to getting shipped off to Timbuktu. In the next chapter, Ron gets a front row seat to Hermione v. Skeeter, part one, after which he decides to get roaring drunk. Too bad for him he doesn't like the game being played at the Three Broomsticks. ;) In any case, I would really like to hear what everyone thinks about this chapter. I've changed the format of the footnotes slightly. Please leave a review. Thank you! 

To respond to previous reviews:   
**Female Fred**: Thanks so much for letting me know you like how the story is written even though you don't like the pairing. I truly appreciate it.   
**Stoneheart**: 42. I'm glad to know you like this fic--and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches _are_ evil. You have no idea how many of them wound up on the ground or worse, on my shirt, when my mom made them for me as a child.   
**Nappa**: Well, Harry and Hermione do get married in the timeline I have plotted out but they have a few things to work out first. They are a little young for everything. ^_^ Did you catch that or are you just so happy to see them together that you didn't realize that?   
**Jeremiah**: Glad to hear you like it.   
**loz**: I've slightly changed the format so all the relevant notes are after the text section that they refer. I hope this works better. I'm also posting a nice linky version to HP_Scribbles. Too bad ff.net doesn't let me do the links as that is the obvious way to go. I hope this chapter is easier to follow.   
**MythX**: It's not so much a question of expanding it as it is a question of writing it. I've most everything planned out, including Skeeter's demise. All I have to do now is get there. ^_^   
**Dark Phoenix**: Thanks ever so much for leaving the review. I hope you like this chapter as well. 


	3. Chapter Two

**Lies, Damned Lies and Newsprint**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Two**

Ron took back his earlier statement about how hard it was to keep an insane reporter out of a flower garden. Rather, it was impossible to herd said insane reporter anywhere. He had been trying for the last several minutes to convince his boss that she was going in the wrong direction. It did not appear that she had heard him as she continued to walk the wrong way while blasting Ron for his gullibility. 

"You're going in the wrong direction." That was the fourth time he had tried to get her going the right way. 

Rita ignored him yet again. "You're never going to get anywhere in life if you always believe what people say, Bell." 

Belle? Where did she come up with that name? And besides, wasn't Belle a girl's name? Yes, Rita was still going in the wrong direction but there were more important things to take care of first. Such as getting her to remember his name or at the very least to use wrong masculine names. 

"It's Ron," he stated flatly. 

"You mean it's not Bell as in Dumbbell?" 

Ron knew he was going to hate his boss as soon as he was told whom he had been assigned to. He knew he was going to absolutely loathe her as soon as she had given him his first "assignment." However, he did not realize back then just how much he would hate and loathe her. It was rather disturbing when he thought about it. Before, Malfoy had been number one on his hate list. Now Rita had long since surpassed his old enemy. On a scale from one to ten on how much he loathed her, Rita was not merely off the scale—she had actually managed to break the scale. 

He couldn't let that statement stand. "No, it's not Bell. My name is Ron." 

"Could have fooled me." 

That was enough to make Ron see red. It would be simply lovely to wrap his hands around her neck and choke her for that remark. He couldn't because he needed this job unfortunately and there was the chance that he would wind up in Azkaban if he killed her. Of course, he thought that anyone who managed to put an end to Rita deserved at least an Order of Merlin, Second Class, rather than a prison sentence and he knew he could get some of his friends to agree with him. However, it was hard to argue with a Dementor wanting a kiss and so Ron restrained his homicidal impulses. Besides, he knew very well that he was not the idiot here. After all, he knew what direction Hermione and Harry's house was. 

He could rub in that particular fact if he could ever get it through Rita's thick skull. "Putting aside that remark, might I point out to you again that you're going in the wrong direction." 

"No, I'm not." 

"Yes, you are. I can understand making a wrong turn, even though most people could figure out that the door was around the corner from the window. But speaking hypothetically, even if someone should manage to make a wrong turn, at the very least, I would expect them to realize it after they've been walking in the same direction without reaching the door for the_ last ten minutes_!" 

"Could you please not shout? You're hurting my ears. And what if they lived in a mansion? Could it not take more than ten minutes to reach the front door from any given window?" 

That was true. Ron knew from personal experience that it could take upwards of twenty minutes to get from a window to the front door at Malfoy Manor. Not that he and his brothers ever spied there to make sure Malfoy was treating Ginny right. Ginny would have thrown a fit if she had thought that but there was nothing keeping them from just strolling about the grounds like tourists. At least that had been their story when they had been caught. Not that the story had helped much. For all her troubles in brewing Potions, Ginny was a bright young woman. She had seen through her brother's flimsy tale and promised to have a "chat" with them later about the grounds if they wanted to learn more about it. Her brothers, being typical men, got the gist of her meaning and fled from the scene of their crime. 

Ron shook his head. He shouldn't let Rita get him off track like that. "Yes, that might work if it was a mansion but Harry and Hermione live in a house. Not extraordinarily large or small but very cozy. It doesn't take ten minutes to walk from their kitchen window to their front door." 

"You sound like you know them and their house very well." 

He shouldn't have said that. He did not want Rita to know about his connection to Harry and Hermione for fear that she would exploit it. Ron did not intend ever to betray anything his friends told him in confidence but at the same time, he did not want to be fired by Rita. As much as he hated her, he needed the work. Furthermore, it would look very bad on his resume to be fired within such a short amount of time. 

He could admit to knowing them at least. Everyone knew them. "They were my year-mates at Hogwarts," he said. 

"I knew that." Rita stopped and turned around to face him. "Your profile did say you graduated from Hogwarts last year, the same as they. And that your House was Gryffindor just like theirs was." 

"You read that?" If she had, then why couldn't she get his name right? It wasn't as if it were long or unusual. What name could be simpler than Ron? 

"Of course I read it. It didn't have any useful information but I couldn't know that without reading it." 

Ron thought that his name would be a useful item to know. However, now that he finally had her facing in the right direction, he had to make sure that she didn't get lost again. 

"Fine. Now I'm going to turn around and if you just follow me, I'll take you to their house." He didn't know why he kept trying. It wasn't like he wanted her to bother Hermione and it was very hard to get her on track. However, this was his job. It didn't matter if he did not like what he was doing or who he was working with. He didn't have much choice but to do his job or risk losing it. While Ron did not want to face an angry Hermione, he most certainly did not want to face his mum after managing to lose the job he just found. 

"I think not." Rita made an about-face and started walking. 

"For the last time, that's the wrong way!" 

"Is it? Perhaps it would help if you drew a map?" 

Ron didn't think it would help if he Transfigured Rita into a Map. "I know this neighborhood and I don't need a map to tell me you're going the wrong way!" 

"Not even if I make a right on the next street and then two more rights afterwards?" 

Ron mentally traced the path that would take. To his astonishment, it would work. 

"Never underestimate me, Ron. I took the long route because your shouting may have alerted Granger. I would advise you to remember that while I may play the fool at times, I am never a fool. Let that be your first life lesson." 

Ron reconsidered his earlier evaluation about Rita being stupid. He thought she still was because of the way she treated people, but now he thought she was a little scary as well. 

**** 

Hermione was finally feeling like she had made progress. Within the last thirty minutes, she had managed to eliminate two more flowers from her list. They would not have any pansies or narcissus at the wedding. Hermione would not decorate with the first because she had never liked Pansy Parkinson at school. As for the second, she did not want to bring up any bad memories for Ginny about her last relationship, which had ended very abruptly. Hermione thought that Ginny would be able to stand the flowers in spite of their association with Draco's mother. However, she was not sure that the Weasley brothers could. 

Having six Weasley brothers steaming mad at some poor flowers would not look good at the wedding. On the other hand, having six Weasley brothers crying because of flowers would be very amusing and lower their entertainment bill. In the end, Hermione had decided against the flowers. She did not want to risk having the Weasleys red with anger at an event that some of them never wanted to happen in the first place1 and besides, they were her friends. It wouldn't be right for her to purposefully embarrass them in front of a large gathering. 

Just then, a knock came from the front door. Hermione blinked. She wasn't expecting anyone. If it were Harry coming home early, he would not have knocked. She didn't know who it could be but she got up anyway. If it were a friend, she could invite them in for tea and then grill them about flowers. If it were someone trying to sell her something, Hermione would get rid of them very quickly. 

She opened the door. It was Skeeter. Hermione attempted to slam the door in the witch's face but unfortunately Skeeter had already gotten a foot through the door and could prevent that. 

"See?" Skeeter said to her companion. "I told you Ms. Granger would try to slam the door in my face. Do you believe me now, you naïve little boy?" 

Hermione looked over at Skeeter's companion and was immediately taken aback. It was Ron. What the hell was he doing working for Skeeter? However, before she could ask him directly about that, Skeeter interfered with an inane question. 

"So Ms. Granger, is Mr. Potter about? I would dearly love to talk with him." 

"No he is not and he wouldn't want to talk with you in any case." 

"Perhaps he is having a little liaison with a pretty witch and so is a tad too busy to speak?" 

If looks could kill, half the neighborhood would have been obliterated from the force of Hermione's glare. Why couldn't people believe that Harry loved her? She was not the slightest bit insecure about the strength of his feelings for her, but it grated on her nerves to have people always questioning them. 

"No, he's not. Harry would never do that me. You can believe otherwise if you want but you'll only be fooling yourself. And as you are apparently unable to figure it out yourself, Harry's at work. He should be teaching the fifth year Hufflepuffs about now. If you really want to talk to him, you can walk over to Hogwarts." Hermione paused, as if struck by a sudden thought and hit her palm with her fist. Snapping her fingers, she said, "That's right. You can't get into Hogwarts, can you? Those anti-Skeeter charms are still in full effect." 

Likewise, if looks could kill, Hermione's house would have been reduced to mere rubble by Skeeter. "And you still can't figure out how to get those charms to work can you?" 

"It's not a matter of figuring them out. I'm just waiting for the permit." 

"I expect you'll be waiting a long time." 

That was as good as an admission that Skeeter had done something to hold up the process. Hermione had thought that was the case. "Well, since Harry isn't here, I don't think you have much reason to stay, now do you?" 

"Is there something you're trying to hide? Perhaps you're the one who is having a hot and torrid affair?" 

The only thing Hermione hated more than people trying to scare her that Harry wouldn't stay true, was people trying to imply that she would ever cheat on Harry. She would never do that. She loved him too much to hurt him. She loved him too much to even think about being with another man. 

"I would never do something like that and you know it. You may lie to your readers, Skeeter, but you know perfectly well that Harry has no reason to think that of me." 

"Yes, of course. You can't possibly risk him throwing you over, considering that it's doubtful that you could ever fool anyone else to date you, much less marry you. Pray tell, would you be willing to give my readers advice on how to get your hooks into the man of your dreams?" 

No one could make Hermione upset faster than Rita Skeeter and Skeeter was using all of her ploys against Hermione today. "There is nothing that you can do to make a person love you. They either do or they don't. All I have to say to your readers is that I'm very happy that somehow Harry loves me." 

"In other words, no advice because you don't want anyone luring him away from you. I will make a special note of that." 

"There really is no end to your lies, is there? You're a complete disgrace to your entire profession." 

"Yes, yes, that's why I'm paid more than anyone else." Rita outright smirked at Hermione. 

"I'm not worried about that. Eventually your lies will catch up to you. And if you excuse me, I think this conversation has come to an end." Hermione shoved Rita out of the door, sending her stumbling back into Ron. Hermione turned her attention to Ron and said, "And as for you, we must have a little 'chat' later about your choice of jobs." 

With that, Hermione slammed the door. 

****   
1 Hermione suspected that Molly Weasley was not completely reconciled to her and Harry's relationship. She knew that Mrs. Weasley had wanted to match her up with Ron and Harry up with Ginny although she never figured out why. Hermione hoped that Mrs. Weasley had given up on her awful matchmaking attempts but from what she had heard regarding Mrs. Weasley's new plans for Ginny that was most likely a faint hope.   
**** 

That went well, Ron thought to himself. Hermione did slam the door in their faces but she hadn't killed either one of them. It had hurt to have Rita fall on top of him but the damage was temporary. 

No, the permanent damage was going to come when Hermione sliced him to bits for his new job. Ron was not looking forward to the promised 'chat' like any sensible male. Ron might not be the brightest bulb in the bunch but no one was dull enough to miss that hint. 

On a side note, Ron wondered if Hermione had been taking lessons from his sister or vice versa. That arch to her eyebrow and the intonation she used when she said the word 'chat' was unusually familiar to the time when Ginny had said the same thing after she caught them skulking outside of Malfoy Manor. He wasn't sure as it could just be a trait that was common in all females. 

Now that was a frightening thought. 

Deciding to stop scaring himself with pondering the mysteries of the female gender, Ron found himself once more having to catch up with his boss. 

"Was it necessary to rile her like that?" he asked when he reached Rita. 

"Was there any reason not to?" 

"I don't know. Maybe out of common politeness you should have been nicer in the way you questioned her. She might have been willing to actually talk to you if you didn't start insinuating that Harry would be unfaithful to her. And you just really went overboard when you then made the same insinuation about her." 

"Do you really think that Granger would have answered any question from me? She's the type to hold a grudge and she's been holding one since her fourth year." 

"That's because you've been after her since her fourth year! Maybe if you just dropped it, she'd become more pleasant to deal with." 

"You do believe that, don't you?" Rita turned to examine her foolish apprentice. "You do think that if I act nice to Granger that she'll just let bygones be bygones and tell me everything I want to know." 

"She's not going to tell you everything. Some things in her life are personal." 

"I don't believe that. Trust me, nothing is sacred. There are merely things that are interesting enough to print and things that aren't all that interesting but you still file away later in case you need to blackmail." 

"That's not very nice." 

"I'm not paid to be nice. I'm paid to dish out all the juicy details I can find about whoever has caught my readers' attention. In this case, that would be your two friends." 

That took Ron by surprise. "I never said they were my friends!" 

"That was clear by her intent to chat with you later. Must I remind you again that I am not dumb? Of course, I still cannot place your name but it's obvious you've had more than a passing acquaintance with them. I should have guessed that considering you were in the same House and year as them." Rita glowered at her apprentice. "You should have told me that. Now they won't tell you anything. I suppose it would not have done any good in the first place, as undoubtedly your morals would have gotten in the way." 

"There's nothing wrong with morals. And I didn't know any juicy details anyway." 

She rolled her eyes at that remark. "I suppose not. Granger would not be foolish enough to confide in a dull boy such as you." She spun around and waved a hand in his direction. "That's it for today. I'll expect you bright and early tomorrow morning. Please remember I like both sugar and milk in my tea in the mornings." 

Ron watched as Rita stalked off, now apparently off duty. This day was too bizarre. He just had to go and get a drink. 

Without a second thought, he began to walk in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. 

**** 

Harry always could tell how Hermione's day was just by walking through the front door. If she had a good day, she would be there to greet him, often jumping to give him a hug. That was always nice. He loved it when she did that and he most definitely liked what often followed such a warm greeting. 

On the days that had not gone so well for Hermione, she didn't meet him as he walked in. He would have to search about the house to find her. She almost never took that out on him though. He would go up to hug her, just waiting in silence until she told him what was wrong. Taking off his cloak and putting his books down, Harry set off to find his fiancée. 

That still brought a foolish smile to his face. He couldn't believe that she had said yes. He was sure that at best she would have asked to wait. He had been terrified that she would have given an adamant no, saying that she had never intended to be in a permanent relationship with him. Thank god she had not said that. She had said yes without asking for any more time. Harry would have waited forever for Hermione but he was glad he didn't have to. He could no longer imagine a life without her and he was happy beyond reason that they would start their lives after Hogwarts together as one. 

He found his love in the kitchen, reading a letter. He stopped in the doorway, content to gaze dreamily at her from there. Harry thought she looked her best when concentrating on something. Her forehead would get a little crease and she would bite her lower lip without thinking. 

He loved her so much. 

After watching her for several minutes, Harry walked forward to get to her. Approaching her from behind, he leaned over to touch her shoulder. She looked up at him and their lips met in a long, lingering kiss. Sighing after it ended, Harry picked her up. He sat down in her seat and set her down in his lap. She cuddled up against him and his arms came around to embrace her. 

"Long day?" he asked. 

"Very," she replied, "Ginny's letter just came and it seems that she's been having trouble in Potions." She sighed. "I think I'll answer her tomorrow though. I can't seem to concentrate right now." 

"What happened?" 

"I saw Ron today." 

"Oh." Harry did not know what to say. Ron had taken the news of their relationship very badly but he had thought that Ron had gotten over any feelings of jealousy by now. As if she could hear his thoughts, Hermione quickly laid that fear to rest. 

"He didn't say anything about us. He's over that now. It's just that I don't know what to think about his new job." 

"He found a job?" 

"Yes." Hermione paused, reflecting that Harry like Ron's job as little as she did. "He's working as Skeeter's assistant right now." 

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head against Hermione. It was inconceivable. He knew Ron had been having trouble finding a job but Harry could not believe that Ron would work for Skeeter after everything she had done throughout the years. He drew a deep breath and tried to calm his thoughts. Ron hadn't done anything yet. They should give him a chance. 

He decided to say that to Hermione. "I guess that was the only job he could find, love. You know that he doesn't want to work for his brothers." 

"I know. I can't blame him. Fred and George don't know when to stop the pranks. I can't help but wish he had found a job someplace else though." 

"I do too. He's our friend though—our very best friend. We should believe in him more." 

"You're right" Hermione glanced up to see emerald eyes staring right at her. She smiled. "We shouldn't take it the wrong way. This is Ron we're talking about. We know that he wouldn't ever take Skeeter's side against us." 

"Exactly." Harry tilted his head to place a kiss on Hermione's cheek. She turned in response and their lips met once again. His tongue ran against the seams of her mouth and she responded most obligingly to his silent question. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, exploring its depths and moaning in pleasure when she met it with her own. His hands eagerly unbuttoned the front of her blouse and it was Hermione's turn to gasp when he finally caressed her bare skin. 

Hermione broke away several minutes later. "As much as I want to continue with this, love, we can't." 

Pouting, Harry asked, "Why not?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes, before realizing that he probably could not see it. "We're meeting my parents for dinner tonight, remember? We haven't sat down to talk with them since our engagement." 

Harry wanted to groan in frustration. "I would much rather spend my time alone with you." 

"We'll have plenty of time alone later tonight, my love. I promise." Hermione got up out of his lap, buttoning her blouse as she walked out of the kitchen. "I have got to get ready and I would suggest you do the same." 

Harry stood up to follow her lead. If he had to meet with her parents tonight, at least he could get a bit of sustenance first by helping her dress.   
  
  
  


**_Author's note_**—Another chapter done but the day's not over yet. Next time, Ron runs into his old buddies, Dean and Seamus, who have a new song while Harry can't find anyplace to hide from Hermione's parents. I would love to hear anything you have to say about this chapter so please please leave a review. 

And thanks so much to everyone who left a review for the previous chapter:   
**Nappa** and **Stoneheart**—The name thing is just the tip of the iceberg for a girl. Not only do people expect you to change your name personally, although not necessarily professionally, you also have to get used to things that put you in second place. Everyone says "Mr. and Mrs." and no one says it the other way. You have to consider the feelings of the other person in lots of choices you make, including some smaller ones. That's very scary, especially when you're so young. I know that at 18 I wasn't sure about who I was yet and how can you start to live as a unit when you've yet to live as yourself? It only gets worse when you add children into the equation. You feel like society expects you to always be there for your kids even if you're holding down a job and I know some women feel guilty for working while their children are still young. *sigh* Just thought that I would mention that as you seemed to be concentrating on the name issue a bit too much. For a girl, that's the least of her worries.   
And Nappa, if you have trouble understanding the fic, let me know so I can see if I can make it more readable. It might just be the switching viewpoint rapidly thing and that should not happen too often.   
**Eric **and **Noodlejelly**—Rita can't be a complete idiot otherwise she would never have been able to successfully complete the animagus transformation. When it comes to survival skills, she is very good indeed. However, when it comes to dealing with people, she's an absolute idiot. It doesn't help that she doesn't really consider the feelings of other people because she's arrogant enough to believe she can get herself out of any bad situation. She's also arrogant enough to severely underestimate Ron and that will lead to her demise.   
**Korine**—I'm glad you liked the chapter. Ron is an interesting character, indeed, although I wouldn't worship him. ^_^   
**Brian**—Thanks for the review. It's nice to know the last chapter made you laugh.   
**Max**—I was giggling at your response to Nappa's review. I think what might make this fic more confusing to read is the fact that I'm switching between viewpoints and I also have an omniscient narrator whose been hinting blatantly at things to come. It's good to know that you could still follow it though.   



	4. Chapter Three

**Lies, Damned Lies and Newsprint**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Three**

Ron always wanted to be rich and famous when he was younger. If you had told his younger self that he would one day have a large Muggle photograph sitting on the wall in the Three Broomsticks, he would have been much gratified, if a bit disbelieving. 

That feeling of euphoria Ron felt when he walked into the bar was short-lived. It lasted about as long as it took for the dart Dean was throwing to hit his photo, right between the eyes. 

The rowdy cheers and laughs that followed tipped Ron off to the fact that he would not be welcomed here by his old companions. He had suspected that they would have taken the news of his job badly. However, he did not know that it would have spread this quickly or that Dean and Seamus would have been able to concoct a new drinking game so fast. 

Considering how bad his day had already been, Ron should not have been surprised. 

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, lest they should decide to use him for target practice, Ron turned around to walk out. Yet while many of the current patrons of the Three Broomsticks were already well inebriated, not all were so far gone as to not have noticed the flash of red hair. 

One of those patrons was Seamus Finnegan, Dean's partner in crime, and Seamus was not about to let Ron go so easily. 

"Well folks, look who's decided to show his ugly mug here!" Seamus said loudly, while pointing wildly at the front door. "It's not other than our favorite weasel!" 

Having several dozen pointed glares thrown at his back was not something that Ron had ever wanted to experience. He briefly considered running before deciding not to back down. Yellow was not amongst the Gryffindor colors, no matter how much the Slytherins claimed that Gryffindor gold was actually yellow. 

The sea of evil grins that greeted him when he turned around to face Dean and Seamus almost convinced him that the Slytherins were right. At least a yellow Gryffindor would be an alive and breathing Gryffindor. Never being one to like admitting that a Slytherin could ever be right, Ron pushed that thought aside and walked forward to sit at Dean and Seamus's table. 

"So how was your day?" Ron managed to ask conversationally. 

"It was going perfectly fine," Dean replied. "I've still not found a job thanks to our favorite Wizarding newspaper but—" 

"Hate to break it to you, Dean," Seamus interrupted, "but Ron here actually likes the Daily Prophet." 

"He does?" Dean faked being shocked. "That can't be!" 

"Sorry, Dean but good ole Ron here has decided to work for the Daily Prophet." 

"Despite everything that they've done to us?" 

"Yes and despite everything they've done to his best friends. He works for Skeeter!" 

"I guess that's why we call him the weasel." Dean smiled up at Ron. "So Ron, seeing how you're a traitor and all, would you like to hear about our new game?" 

Ron never thought much of the games that Dean and Seamus made until he had imbibed several drinks. Those games were never that fun or clever in Ron's opinion. Yet, as he didn't think he really had a choice when it came to hearing about their new game, he thought he would at least make it seem like he did by agreeing. 

"Why not? Bring the new game on." 

The whole room roared as Dean picked up a dart lying on the table. Then all the patrons began singing: 

_Up and down the City road,_   
_In and out the Eagle,_   
_That's the way the money goes,_   
_Pop goes the weasel._

The singers practically screamed the final word as Dean threw the dart at Ron's picture. It hit the picture on Ron's chin which led to the entire room cheering and everyone quaffing their drinks. 

It was the _stupidest_ drinking game Ron had ever witnessed. Ron was insulted that they could not come up with anything better for someone they despised as a traitor to the unemployed. 

"Is that all?" he asked. "You take a drink so long as it hits the picture?" 

His two year-mates grinned at each other. "You've got it." 

"Couldn't you have come up with anything better?" 

"Why waste our time inventing a good game to make fun of scum?" 

"I don't know," Ron said. "Maybe because if something is worth doing, then it is worth doing well?" That comment emitted no response as his two wayward year-mates were busy with another round of their new favorite game. Madam Rosmerta came by, with mugs filled to the brim to replace the empty ones sitting on the table. 

"That's a rather large picture," Ron remarked to her as she set down the mugs. 

"Yes it is," she agreed. 

"It must be rather easy to hit, considering that it doesn't even move." 

"That would make it easier." 

"Tell me, does Dean or whoever's throwing ever miss?" 

"It hasn't happened yet." 

Ron rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "You must love this game." 

"You could say that." 

Ron got up and started to head out the door. It looked like he would have to find a new watering hole for the time being. 

Later Ron would reflect that he had to really work on his concept of timing for that was precisely when Dean, Seamus and their compatriots thought it would be fun to aim the darts at him. 

**** 

It was nice to be able to walk into Hogwarts again without having to look behind your back for the stray Dementor. There was something to be said about finally having your name cleared. 

Sirius Black was most certainly enjoying his current lifestyle. 

It had been clear that the Ministry of Magic had made a big mistake when Wormtail was verified to be alive and well amongst the Death Eaters. Faster than you can say lawsuit, one was filed on behalf of Sirius for false imprisonment. After his godson had testified to the effects that the Dementors had, the Ministry of Magic had wisely decided to settle the case. As a result, Sirius had come into quite a bit of money to add to his Gringotts's vault. Although said vault had been substantially depleted by broomstick purchases, it still had contained a fair amount of Wizarding money before the settlement came through. Sirius had decided to spend a fair amount of his time and the money he received in traveling the world, trying to make up for all those years he was locked up in Azkaban. 

However, Sirius had not competed with James Potter for the position of Head Boy for nothing. He knew perfectly well that the money would not last forever and so he had already begun to make oblique inquiries into finding employment. His luck so far had been rather bad. Most people were not willing to hire a former convict, although he had been clearly acquitted of the crime. When Dumbledore's letter came, asking Sirius to meet the headmaster and hinting at a possible position, Sirius had been eager to take the bait. 

If nothing else, he would at least get a free meal. His years on the run taught him never to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or rather, in his case, to forget looking at the free food and eat it before Buckbeak got to it. 

Arriving a bit early, Sirius had wandered the grounds for some time, reminiscing about years past. His memories were often interrupted by students pointing and staring in his direction so he settled on skipping the slow stroll down Memory Lane. Sirius had only ran into one student that he knew—little Ginny Weasley. He had jovially asked how her day was going only to receive a glare and a rather hard stomp on his foot. 

So it was Sirius found himself standing outside the headmaster's office, as he had so many times before, trying to keep his weight off of his right foot and wondering what the password could possibly be. He had already gone through all the sweets he could think of when a voice sounded behind him. 

"Weasel Pop." 

Sirius whirled around to see Dumbledore standing right behind him. "Weasel Pop?" he asked. "I never heard of that." 

"I expected that," Dumbledore replied, ushering Sirius in. "But that password seemed rather appropriate for the times we live in." 

Sirius was not even going to ask what that meant. He would just cut to the chase rather than try to match wits with the old headmaster. "I believe you hinted that there might be a teaching position I could take next term." 

"Yes, I did," Dumbledore said pleasantly as he took a seat across from Sirius. "Minerva has told me that she does not expect to return next year and so we will need a new Transfiguration professor. I thought that you would be the logical choice given that you were able to go through the animagus transformation illegally with the help of your friends." 

Sirius chose to ignore the latter half of Dumbledore's remarks. "I would be honored to teach here at Hogwarts next year," he said. 

"That is very good to know," Dumbledore replied. "I was concerned about whether I could find an adequate replacement. A Transfiguration professor must not only know his subject through and through but also be scary enough to keep his students on task. The slightest mistake could be disastrous. However, with your already infamous reputation, I am sure that you will have no problems in maintaining control." 

That was another comment that Sirius decided it was best to ignore. He inwardly grinned at the idea that the Prankster King would actually be handed a position of responsibility at the school. After he received that letter, he had been hoping to be offered any teaching position, except for Defense Against Dark Arts. Harry was teaching that and Sirius did not want his godson to rise above the so-called DADA jinx. If anyone could do it, Harry could. Sirius just knew that next year was going to be perfect. With any luck, he could convince Harry to team up with him to instruct the younger Gryffindors the time-honored tradition of pulling pranks. 

Sirius's smile only grew wider as he thought of what he could do to Snape and the Slytherins, even without resorting to dungbombs and the like. He knew that it had rankled Harry and his friends every time Snape had unfairly taken off points from Gryffindor. Gryffindor had been at a severe disadvantage all those years, especially as McGonagall was obsessed with appearing to be fair. The Gryffindors were not going to have to worry about that any more. Sirius intended to take back all the points the Gryffindors had lost from Snape from the Slytherins. 

"Might I note, Mr. Black, that should you get into a point war with Mr. Snape then the end result will be that the Ravenclaws will win the House Cup?" 

Sirius winced. Dumbledore was right. That did not bode well for his plans. It looked like he would have to compromise with Snape regarding taking off points. However, he could still encourage young, impressionable minds to make Snape's life a misery though. 

Dumbledore was talking again and Sirius's attention snapped back to him. He did not want to lose this job offer out of sheer carelessness. 

"And besides," Dumbledore concluded, although Sirius did not know what it was a conclusion to, "hiring you will keep the balance on the types of Transfiguration professors we've hired." 

"In other words, you mean you switch between hiring men and women for the job?" 

"No, I was referring to the fact that last time we hired a cat and this time we are hiring a dog." 

**** 

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a young man about to meet his fiancée's parents, must be in want of a good hiding place. However much his beloved may reassure him that her parents will love him, the truth is one phrase will continue to dominate his thoughts: I must hide. 

Harry quickly scanned his surroundings. He was out of luck. There were no large hideous vases, potted plants or Voldemorts to hide behind in sight. 

He repressed the urge to groan. Hermione would not appreciate it. She had been telling him for weeks that he had nothing to worry about. "My parents will love you," she had said. "I've told them so much about you and they can't wait to meet you. Especially my father. He's truly the dearest, sweetest man of my acquaintance.1 Besides, you've met them before and nothing's happened." 

Harry repeated that last fact to himself. He had met Hermione's parents before and lived to tell the tale. He has known them since the summer before his second year. _ Of course_, a nasty little voice added, _that was before you were in a relationship with their precious little angel._

Harry shook his head to get rid of that voice. He had met them after he and Hermione had started dating. In fact, he has had several meetings with both her parents after they announced their engagement. He would live to see the sun rise again. 

_You've never met them one on one after the announcement._ That nasty little voice had returned. This time Harry couldn't get rid of the feeling that it was right. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Even now Hermione was greeting her parents. 

He watched his beloved trot up to her parents with a sinking feeling in his stomach. There was no way he was going to survive this meeting. He saw Hermione kiss her mother's cheek and hug her father. Then all three turned to look at him 

Hermione smiled warmly at him and Harry felt his heart leap. All of a sudden, he began to believe that things would work out fine. He had nothing to worry about at all. Hermione's parents had to be wonderful, caring people—after all, they had her as a daughter. He looked over at Mrs. Granger. She greatly resembled Hermione, especially when they both wore their hair up like that. Harry then turned his attention to Mr. Granger. 

Mr. Granger smiled. 

_Oh my god_, thought Harry, _what large teeth he has!_

_The better to hurt you with, my dear. _ That nasty little voice didn't miss a single cue. 

Harry was just about to start fleeing when Hermione beckoned him over. "Come here and say hello, Harry," she said. 

What Harry wanted to do was to scream "I want my mummy!" and run. However, survival instincts honed over many generations took over.2 His face contorted into a vague resemblance of a grin and he meekly replied, "Yes, dear" before walking over. 

Harry was really hating those survival instincts of his. Wouldn't it be easier and less painful just to die? 

Now I don't want to imply that it is not possible for a man to have a close and loving relationship with his father-in-law. However, there are certain times in life when the relationship between the two will be strained. Usually these situations have specific questions associated with them, such as: "So you think you're good enough for my precious little angel, don't you?" and "So you've knocked up my precious little angel, haven't you?" and also "So you think I'm spoiling my precious little angel's little angels, don't you?" 

To counter these times of conflict, there are also times when a man will bond with his father-in-law. Namely, when a man's daughter has finally brought home a beau of her own. 

Fortunately for Harry, Hermione's maternal grandfather was not present as he had left the mortal coil a few years back. 

This didn't mean he wasn't keeping an eye on things though. 

**** 

_Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high . . ._

Well, perhaps not that high. 

To get to the point, up above the sky so high there is a place known colloquially as "The Wedding Lounge." The room got its name because it was the place where those no longer with us went to watch weddings and wedding plans being made. As there are a great number of weddings going on and being planned at any one time, there is usually a battle royal going on over what should be on the main screen. That wasn't true for today. 

No one was willing to challenge the raving ghost sitting in front of the main screen for control of it. 

Besides, many different ghosts were interested in the wedding of Harry Potter. As usual, there were bets being made left and right as to how soon would the Boy Who Lived join them. 

On the screen, Mr. Granger was slowly crushing Harry's hand. 

"That's the way to do it!" shouted Hermione's grandfather. "Give him the Handshake of Doom! Show him what he gets for thinking he's good enough for our little Hermione!" 

The odds of Harry's survival began to dip against him. 

Mr. Granger was now smiling at Harry again, showing off all of his teeth. The audio was coming through loud and clear. "I'm so glad to meet you face-to-face, Harry. I can't wait to spend some time alone together." 

"That's the ticket, my boy!" Gramps was really getting into the spirit of things. "Separate him from Hermione and then lay down the law!" 

For some reason, however, wizards and witches began to leave the vicinity. The odds moved in favor of Harry's survival. 

"Thou shalt not ever make our baby cry! If you ever argue with her, thou shalt always be wrong! And if you do have the nerve to argue with her, thou shalt face our fists of fury!" 

The room was now almost completely empty except for the raving lunatic in the middle. 

"Thou shalt only kiss her on the hand for the next five years! At least! Thou shalt not inflict any other forms of affection upon . . ." 

Then there was a swish and a flick and a clear female voice calling out, "Wingardium Leviosa!" 

And just like that, the balance of the cosmos was restored. 

The mother-in-law had arrived and no one was allowed to wish pain upon her son. 

**** 

1 The author would like to note that all men hearing a similar statement from their respective beloveds should think long and hard before asking, "What about me?" To be specific, they should think long and hard about how easily could they run away if the situation should turn bad before popping that question. 

2 These survival instincts are part of the classical proofs of the existence of the magical process of natural selection. Nature favors those who are better equipped to deal with common hazardous situations and so they survive to pass on their genes to the next generation. Men who went with their gut reaction in similar situations tended not to leave the room entirely intact. 

****   
**Author's note**—The next chapter sees Ron trying to escape with all his body parts intact while Lily and Gramps eagerly await the outcome of Harry's meeting with Hermione's parents. I would really like to know what you think about this fic so please leave a review. Thank you. 

**Green Eyed Lilys Daughter**—I'm happy to know you like the fic. Of course, at the rate that Hermione is eliminating flowers, the wedding's not going to happen for the next ten years. Thanks for the review!   
**Noodlejelly**—Well I can't promise to ship her off or anything too specific, but I can tell you that she's not going to be too happy at the end. ^_^ H/H will get married but at the speed this fic is going, I suspect that might be a fic in and of itself.   
**Stoneheart**—I mentioned the name thing since both you and Nappa brought it up. I thought you would appreciate it if I didn't say anything about you first asking that H/Hr stay together (or rather no D/Hr) and then reversing yourself by saying they have time to wait and explore. ^_~ If it makes you feel better, if Hermione snogs anyone aside from Harry, I will be very surprised. Now that would be an incredible plot twist. Thanks for lettingme know you like this fic.   
**Nappa**—*sigh* It's one thing to dream about one day getting married. I know a lot of girls write the "Mr & Mrs" thing about their current crush. It's another thing to face the reality of marriage and the fact that society will think of you as a Mrs. Someone for the rest of your life (unless you're very strident about keeping your maiden name and that can have other consequences). A couple of my friends have gotten engaged and it seems incredible to me that they are ready to deal with everything. One of them has already started questioning when she made the right decision. The whole "Mrs." deal makes it seem like you're no longer the same person, and to some extent, this is true regardless of what name you go by. And in regards to your remarks about weddings being hard on males as well—that is so typically male, as in "mention a wedding and women's minds can't focus on anything else" and all that. I've no doubt that weddings aren't easy on the men, but in many cases that I've heard of, women have done the bulk of the preparation. Think about Hermione's position—she's trying to arrange for her own wedding after she's graduated with little helpful input from her significant other. Of course, she's feeling the stress. While Harry and the other males might later be reduced to the status of go-fers, she is in a much worse position. In fact, if Warpath!Hermione ever met me while she had her bokken, I expect that she would beat me black and blue for writing this scenario. Good thing she's a fictional character. ^_^ By the way, ever notice that we seem to get into these "he said, she said" conversation over fics?   



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